


Cagamosis

by Emono



Series: B'shert [3]
Category: The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: F/M, M/M, Pining, Smut, but its them fucking girls, but they're thinking of each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:08:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johns meets a man named Lord Vaako who smells like the dead but looks like a siren. Their interaction is brief, fiery, and leaves them both daydreaming of people they can't have. Though they try to fuck the idea of one another out with willing, female flesh - the idea stays. An impression is left, and it will not be the last. Takes place at the same time as "Saudade".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cagamosis

**This takes place at the same time as "Saudade", so even though it has no smut - check it out. Fuck, I can't wait until all the boys meet each other and they can be Johns/Riddick/Vaako**

* * *

 

_**Cagamosis** _

_(n.) an unhappy marriage_

\- from [wordstuck](http://wordstuck.co.vu/)

 

 

* * *

 

Vaako walked with purpose along the docking station area of their chosen Class M planet. It was his third scouting mission in ten days. Their esteemed Lord Marshal was being particular about their next invasion. He wanted the perfect planet: Rich with resource, plentiful with potential converts, and most populated in large cities. Vaako had been trying to push for a lower class, domed planet but the Lord Marshal wanted nothing to do with a world where he couldn't walk freely. He was only a soldier and he would not question his master's decision.

 

He was chosen because he was the best. The day he completed his conversion was the day he started moving up in ranks. The Lord Marshal had taken a shine to him for good reason. Though his past life was not important, it had left him with heightened senses. He could hunt down escapees on foot with his nose alone, low light didn't bother him, and he had a heightened awareness that kept people from sneaking up on him. It was a gift that had given him the title of Lord and the official position of the Lord Marshal's right hand.

 

They'd dropped down only a few minutes ago and it wasn't looking prime so far. Scales was on his left with a data pad, Toal on his right. Vaako listed off the things they needed to observe, more a formality than anything. These were his two best men and they had been with him on almost every mission before this, and it was just Toal before Scales had converted. They knew what they had to do. They'd dressed down to their subtle gear. The usual Necromonger armor was more sufficient but it was heavy, showy, and they didn't want to stick out. They hid their faces and weapons with cloaks to blend in as best three deathly pale men could.

 

“I want traffic reports,” he noted off-handedly, eyeing the street that people seemed to be funneling into to enter the main part of the city. “I want to know how advanced they are.”

Scales was assessing the same area. “Yes, my lord, but it looks like a lot of solar to me.”

 

“Seconded,” Toal stated.

 

“Third,” Vaako agreed readily, “And you know what that means. We will-”

A loud bout of arguing caught their attention. It was towards the edge of the port where some of the bigger ships were, at the base ramp of a cargo haul to be precise. Two men were standing toe-to-toe and screaming at the top of their lungs, the two voices jumbling together but the words _con_ and _payment_ rang clear. One man was large, shoulders as thick as gourds, his beady eyes too dull to hold any real brains behind them. He had a badge on his chest. The other was blonde and almost as tall, smooth faced and packing a shotgun on his back.

 

_A warden and a mercenary. Interesting._

 

Without warning, they started shoving one another. It was just a pissing match until the warden threw a punch the blonde wasn't expecting, catching him on the cheek and whipping his head to the side. When he got back his footing he looked positively murderous.

 

Scales slipped away the data pad and laid a hand upon his sword instead. “What is this?”

 

Toal saw Vaako's interest as well. “Shall we, my lords?”

  
“We shall.”

 

They moved like smoke through the crowd, barely touching as they snaked toward their targets with all the smoothness of a well-oiled machine. Without a word, Toal slid behind the warden and caught him in an arm lock that made the larger man flail. Scales snagged the merc by the waist. The blonde struck out and clawed at the Necromonger's arm but there was no pain to be felt. Vaako got between them, letting his hood fall back to reveal his face to the two of them.

 

“Let me go!” the merc yelled, kicking, but his heels barely grazed the dirt from how high Scales was holding him. “I'm going to punch his fucking teeth in!”

 

“Let the kid try!” the warden barked back.

 

“Hey, fuck you, Cobb! You owe me!” He was drawing blood now across the soldier's hand, the only skin visible past his light weight armor. “I handed him over, fair and square.”

 

“I told you-”

 

“I want my fucking money!” The merc tried to lunge, the strength of it making Scales sway.

 

Vaako raised a brow. _Strong little boy._

 

“Calm down,” Vaako commanded, looking between the pair but settling on the blonde. “And watch your language. This is a public terminal.”

 

The boy's jaw snaps shut with an audible _click_. His eyes rounded out with shock, that shade of blue particularly unnatural in this galaxy. There were only a few races of humanoid men who had that coloring. The child was a long way from home. Blood was smeared across his chin, a dollop sticking to his lower lip. Vaako took a cloth from his pocket and folded it into a square. He stepped to the merc and gave a nod to Scales to let him down. The blonde didn't run once his feet hit the ground. Vaako took it as a good sign. He moved into his space and yet the merc didn't move, didn't speak. The cloth was offered and taken, crimson blossoming into the fabric as it was pressed to the wound.

 

“Mercenaries rely solely on their reputation to do business,” Vaako advised lowly, lips twitching downward as he heard the blonde inhale sharply. “A hundred eyes judge yours right now. Is this really how you want them to remember you?”

 

The merc spotted the growing crowd and gave a tight nod of acknowledgement.

 

“This is a bad place to make enemies,” he tisked scoldingly, “Crowded, unarmed-”

 

“I'm not unarmed,” the merc cut in.

 

“That gun of yours is useless in short range where speed is optimum.”

 

The blonde grinned, another bead of blood soaking into the cloth. “Like I said – not unarmed.”

 

Vaako dared to let his eyes rake over the man's fit form. There were bulges along his ribs that he hadn't spotted before, a swell across his flank that indicated something like a hunting knife. The blonde shifted his leg to show off the curve of a hidden pistol.

 

“Indeed,” Vaako's smirk seemed to make the merc shiver, though it was not from fear if the heat in his eyes had anything to say about it. “My apologies.”

 

The warden made an ugly sound and it drew the Necromonger's attention. “Did he deliver the convict?”

 

“Of course I did,” the merc spat.

 

Vaako raised a brow at the meat-headed warden. “Well?”

 

The man's lips thinned into a white slash across his face. “He did. But-”

 

“Then I must heavily insist that you pay him his due.”

 

“What?” the warden flushed, those lips now curling into an ugly snarl. “Fuck _you_ , and the blonde bitch.”

 

Vaako unsheathed his sword, the blade flashing in the air almost too fast for some to see before it settled at the crook of the man's fat neck. The warden paled considerably and went limp in Toal's hold.

 

“This blade was taken from the last man who defied me.” He twisted the handle, flesh giving way under the edge just enough to sprout fresh blood.

 

“Y-You can't do this,” the warden stuttered out.

 

“It is not up to you to decide what I can and cannot do,” Vaako sneered. “However, it is in your power to save your skin and pay this mercenary what you owe.”

 

The warden nodded. Satisfied, Vaako put away the weapon and turned his attention back to the blonde merc. He was looking far too pleased despite that he had the posture of someone with wounded pride.

 

“What is your name?” Vaako inquired, taking a moment to admire the flex of of the man's forearms and the curve of his neck.

 

“None of your business, mister,” the merc drawled, gaze lingering on the carved metal of the Necromonger's forearm plate. “What's yours?”

 

 _Cheeky child._ “By mutual exchange, mine is not yours either.”

 

“Too bad.” The human's grin was full of pearly teeth that looked a tad too sharp to be normal.

 

“I'll leave you to your business.” Vaako gave a tilt and dip of his head, a show of respect he made before he could give it a second thought.

 

“Lord Vaako.” Toal was all but ready to start nudging him with the blunt end of his axe.

 

The merc opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. The cloth stayed at his lip like a shield. Or maybe more a coquettish fan, for the heat he'd seen in that stare had been blown into a full-fledge hunger. Vaako found himself not unaffected. The human was a handsome, there was no shame in noting that.

 

The merc boldly took the few steps between them, yet another spark of surprise rising up within Vaako's chest. The other inhaled deeply, a flicker of _something_ going through his very image before it melted into an easy grin. “Thanks. See you around, Dead Boy.”

 

Vaako nearly followed the merc as he walked away, nose trailing after the enticing scent. Like blood and battle, strength – like his blade did after he'd pulled it out of an enemy's steaming body. Two steps and he staggered, the rough movement jolting him back to the present. He rightened his shoulders and fixed his posture, slipping back into the Necromonger Lord persona.

 

The merc was nothing to him. Just one in a million, one human in a pool of filth that liked to act as if they were some police force for a wide range of sectors. He had a wife back on the Basilica. He didn't need to be following after some boy like a dog.

 

There was an ache in his fingers. Vaako turned his back on the blonde with a small degree of difficulty and walked back to his soldiers, hands itching from the bone outward.

 

Scales frowned at him. “Vaako?”

 

“I need a moment on my own,” Vaako replied lowly, trying to keep from digging his nails into his flesh to stop the incessant sensation. “I wish to get a lay of the land by myself, just to get an idea of how much area we will have to actually cover on foot. You two keep watch here, observe the number of ships coming in and out. See if there's a mercenary hub nearby. We won't to invade a port with high numbers of them milling about. As filthy as they are, they are a necessary evil.”

 

“Like spiders,” Scales commented, pulling out the data pad once more to keep track of their numbers.

 

Vaako's puff of breath was one of amusement. “Yes. Just like spiders.”

 

**x-X-x-X-x-X-x**

 

“Oh.”

 

“Mm, that's it, baby.”

 

_Janessa. Her name's Janessa._

 

She ran a hand over her own chest, pert nipple grazing her lavender painted nails. “You like this?”

 

“Janessa, baby doll, you've got no idea.”

 

The girl Johns picked up from the bar was a hot mess beneath him. They were down to their underwear and things were getting serious, the air heavy with lust and humid with panted out breaths. She was moaning in his ear, the soft flesh of her breasts pressing up into his chest with every grind of their hips. Her panties were soaked and the smell was thick in his nose, enticing him to rut. She tasted like cheap mixed drinks and fruity gloss, lips so plump he couldn't help but bite them until they were bruised and hot beneath his mouth.

 

He carded his fingers through her long black hair, every strand sliding like ribbon past his palm. He couldn't get enough of it. _Braids._

 

Janessa broke the kiss, charcoal-spun lashes fluttering over her pink tinted eyes. Huh. Must have had them dyed in one of those back alley shop. _Beautiful hazel, flecked with green and intense enough to burn whatever they touched._

 

Johns shook his head sharply before diving back down to devour her generous mouth. He ran his hands down the steep curves of her hips down to the swell of her ass, fingertips sliding under the line of her underwear to cup supple cheeks. Caramel colored valleys and mountains, all ready for him to explore. _Nothing like translucent skin stretched across sharp angles and heavy muscle. Far from frail._

 

Janessa gave a soft whine when she rubbed against the bulge of his cock just the right way. Her arousal smelled like fake marshmallow fluff, dense on his tongue and sticky in the back of his throat. _That scent had all the makings of death, but wasn't. More like the sickly sweet smell of a fresh wound._

 

He kissed her chin, tasting make-up. _So close shaven, not even a shadow of a beard. The skin would probably feel the same under lips. What kind of race could he be? What kind smelled and looked like that? And that armor._

 

Johns frowned against the thump of her neck, mentally filing through all the species he'd seen in his line of work. Humanoid, definitely. Militarized, ruthless, a little blood thirsty. He'd have to start asking around and put a few feelers out.

 

A hand wriggled into his boxers and cool fingers wrapped around his hard cock. It sent a shock of pleasure up behind his belly button. He smiled and murmured a name, placing a suckling kiss under the curve of her jaw. “Vaako.”

 

They both froze. Janessa's glossy lips curled back in a wicked snarl before she shoved him off, the man landing beside her with an _oof_ of surprise. He kind of gaped like a landed fish as she got up and started raking her clothes off the floor and shoving them all back on. He found his silver tongue again after her bra covered up those perfect tits. “Wait, baby, come on. Don't leave.”

 

“No way, asshole.”

 

“Baby, don't be like that,” Johns tried to smooth over, crawling to the edge and grabbing her hand. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, flashing his baby blues up at her in a way that had always worked on the ladies before. “Just calm down a bit and I promise I'll make it up to you. You get your pert ass back in this bed and I swear, hand to God, that I'll eat you out so good you won't be able to feel your toes let alone remember your name.”

 

He got a swift backhand for that, the sting of it making his eyes water. Little girl had some force behind her, fueled as she was by that fire filling up her pink-stained eyes.

 

“Fuck you, asshole!” Janessa hissed through her teeth. “You don't say someone else's name. You just-” Her face screwed up and her cheeks flushed a dark red. “We weren't even fucking yet!”

 

The girl stormed out, taking a whole cloud of rage with her that would undoubtedly strike another poor guy that happened to get in her way on her trip home. The door slammed shut so hard the hinges rattled but there was no damage he'd have to pay the motel manager in the morning.

 

Johns flopped onto his back with a huff, spreading his limbs out as his erection died off. He cast a glare at the ceiling as if had been the one to say another person's name. Of-fucking-course this happened. He threw away a sure deal for what exactly? A mild fantasy? He'd found this sweet, willing bed bunny and he'd her ignored in favor of some guy who happened to talk to him for three minutes a couple days before. Janessa was right. He was an asshole.

 

Johns rolled onto his belly and shoved the musty pillow under his chin, turning his glare to the ugly wallpaper instead. “Motherfucker.”

 

Vaako had been on his mind since he'd scented him back on that planet with Cobb. At first the man was just a meddlesome bastard with a police-complex, but then that advice had struck him where it mattered. In the middle of a dock was no place to start a brawl. If news had gotten back to Boss he'd be knee deep in angry transmissions by now. The handkerchief had thrown him. The same cloth that was still tucked into his bag, blood stains and all. What kind of guy offered another guy a handkerchief for a busted lip?

 

 _Gentlemen_ , whispered a voice that sounded faintly like his late mother.

 

His lips tugged up into a smile. _Yeah, Ma, maybe in those old westerns._

 

The advice, the cloth, and the proximity...it was hard to forget when a man as pretty as that showed you some attention. The smell of Lord Vaako had rubbed him the wrong way at first but his opinion had soon changed after the man had defended him from Cobbs' stubborn wrath. When Vaako had stepped closer he'd caught a scent that reminded him of his own. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that the man was a Shifter, a feline Shifter at that. But it was faint. As if he hadn't changed in a while. Johns couldn't pinpoint what kind of cat the other was but it wasn't Earthian (Terran? Wasn't that the technical word those fancier pilots used? Whatever.)

 

An alien breed of Shifter. He hadn't seen a lot of those in form before. And never one who smelled that bare. Shifting was like breathing. It was a necessity. How did that guy go so long without? It couldn't be comfortable and it damn sure wasn't healthy.

 

Johns closed his eyes and burrowed further down into the pillow.

 

Hopefully it wasn't the last time he saw the mysterious Lord Vaako.

 

**x-X-x**

 

The room was filled with the sound of flesh-against-flesh. Artful moans echoed off the walls, no doubt trickling into the hall through the ventilation. Just as his Dame planned, he was sure. Their bodies strained against one another, her smooth thighs hugging his hips as he thrust up into the grasping heat of her cunt. She was beautiful above him, long hair spilling like water down her shoulders and across the tight curves of her breasts. She looked as if she was carved out of bronze, a statue come who'd come alive enough to seduce and manipulate but not enough to thaw out a heart.

 

Vaako felt the tug of release like a hook in the base of his stomach. When he finally came it was with closed eyes, a fantasy painted out on the back of his lids. He had not enjoyed but a moment of bliss before sharp nails bit into his jaw, edges piercing skin to bring forth the stench of his own blood. His gaze snapped open and onto his formidable wife, the woman now atop him nothing short of a snake poised to strike. Her cheek bones, swept so tactfully with shimmering powder, now resembled blades in her displeasure. Dark eyes bore into him, cold and sharp.

 

“What were you thinking about, husband?” his Dame inquired softly, her tone no louder than a shifting of grass around a predator. He kept a carefully neutral mask on his face as a little wings of panic fluttered through his chest. The lack of response was not acceptable and he got a swift backhand in the mouth for it. His head whipped back and he threw a heated glare at his wife.

 

Dame Vaako had always been a vision in his eyes and the eyes of all that had met her. She had kept her coloring where all others had washed out from Purification. She was intelligent, witty, and on her good days could retain a sense of humor. Unfortunately those days were getting fewer and farther between. As of late she wanted less of his presence in exchange for that of his powerful peers. But they were married and therefore they were each other’s only legal lustful releases. Divorce was unheard of and infidelity was punishable by death.

 

“Who was it?” his Dame purred, all silk and smiles now. “Some whore from the intended world? I heard Toal speaking to his Dame of how you disappeared for the afternoon after you had an encounter on the docks. Did you find someone to your liking there, husband?”

 

His title dripped like poison from her lips.

 

“You worry too much, my Dame. I only escaped their company to get a proper perimeter.” He grabbed her graceful neck and made her still, the reaction of a predator who knew when they were on the verge of being prey. “How can I think of another when you are always so _stuck_ to me?”

 

“I am your wife,” the woman reminded him sweetly with a simper. “Is it not my duty to worry about your actions and how they are perceived?”

 

“Imara.” Her name tasted bitter in his mouth. “You'd do better to trace the movement of my enemies instead of myself.”

 

Dame Vaako smacked his hand away and slid off him with an unmeasured amount of grace. She plucked her sheer dressing gown off the chair she'd draped it over and pulled it on, ribbon tying at her slender waist and giving her a silhouette that had at one point sent him to his knees in worship. Now he was just happy to see her leaving his quarters for her own. Both rooms were of equal sizes and she'd always desired her own space, even back in their technically “honeymoon” phase when hall he'd wanted was to roll around with her in bed. Since their sour turn he'd been grateful for his own space. The door slid shut with a hiss behind her and after a spoken order it locked, effectively creating a safe haven without prying eyes. He often needed a few moments to himself. Like now.

 

Vaako sat up, shoulders slumped and sweat drying on his pale skin. His cheeks puffed around a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He pushed himself up onto his feet and walked over to the viewport, unashamed of his nudity. The stars stretched out into the infinite all around the ship, larger blots of planets and moons winking at him teasingly. He was lucky to have lodgings high up enough in the Bascilla to allow him a brilliant sight as such this. It was the privilege of his title and he often took advantage of it.

 

Though he would never admit it out loud, it was the mercenary from the docks he'd thought of as he had spilled his release inside his Dame. Those eyes had trapped him into some sort of spell. He could not shake himself of the memory no matter how he tried. He could not remember the last time a pretty face had shaken him so thoroughly. Back on that invasion candidate of a planet, Vaako had been forced to steal a moment of privacy in the seclusion of a gated alley to gather his thoughts. After his run-in with that mercenary he had felt wild – no, worse. He'd felt _alive_. Just for a second. At least, what he remembered “alive” to be. What he thought it should be. His heard, usually sluggish from Purification, had been vibrating in his chest and his nose twitching with the sheer smell of the man. If he had managed to touch the blonde, he might have exploded from sensation he'd been so certain he'd lost forever after conversion.

 

The real panic had come after he'd looked down.

 

Vaako held his hands out, fingers flexing thoughtfully before he stroked a thumb over the smooth lines of his nails. Now blunt, but in that alley they had started to ossify.

 

 _Like claws_. He frowned.

 

Necromongers left their pasts behind for well-defined futures as soldiers who marched shoulder to shoulder through pathetic worlds to the Underverse. The Lord Marshal had given him purpose and means to succeed. There were rumors that he had been the easiest convert to take to the New Life. He was the youngest Necromonger Commander on record, favored by the Lord Marshal with many loyal to him by reputation alone. He was merciless but never cruel, unlike some of the others. They treated it like a sport. Vaako treated the whole business as it was – a job. He'd conquered dozens of worlds, commanded a thousand men, and had been awarded a high title and the most saught-after wife in the fleet for his steady stream of accomplishments. It was a point of pride that he was considered one of the shining examples for new converts to follow.

 

“Obedience without question.”

 

But...

 

His hands formed into fists.

 

But...

 

“Loyalty until Underverse come.”

 

But what was he before? Often he’d awoken from dreams of warm fur and the smell of a fresh kill in the air. He would sometimes grow restless and pace, as if trapped, and he wasn’t unknown to scout out ahead on light feet to get the lay of an area (“setting a perimeter”, he would call it). While most Necromongers had no inclination toward one food or the other, he’d always preferred red meat on his plate to anything else. There were so many little things wrong with him – what did they add up to? And what did the boy have to do with it?

 

 _No, not a boy._ Vaako inhaled deeply, trying to bring up the sense memory of that scent. Tinny, like metal, and something else. Sweat. He had smelled battle-ready. That wildness he had experienced in the alley was the same radiating off the mercenary. _No one should be able to smell things like that. It is undoubtedly just one more thing wrong with me._

 

It was a strange mutation left over from his former life. He'd always had a strong nose. How could he smell something that wasn't tangible? Something that didn't have an actual source? It was one thing to smell citrus on someone's clothes from breakfast, it was another to believe someone was not quite human due to a sniff in the air.

  
Vaako smacked a fist against the wall, eyes screwing shut. The whole thing was ridiculous! He was a Necromonger Commander first. All else was second. That boy, his past life – nothing mattered but ridding the universe of breeders until it was prime for the Underverse. That was his goal because it was the goal of _all_ Necromongers. He did not need this confusion. He was a commander and he had a duty to fulfill, and that did not include digging around in his past.

 

Vaako pushed off the wall and ripped his eyes from the peaceful view of space, a scowl marring his handsome face. His mind was made up. He desperately needed to purify.

 

**x-X-x-X-x-X-x**

 

Johns was relaxing in his Captain's chair with his boots kicked up on the dash and his PADD balanced on his knee. The ship was set on autopilot and he had a few hours to kill. He was swiping through some info one of his old MAA buddies had sent him. He'd tried to download it onto his comm but he'd left it free in case he wanted to record a log.

 

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

 

Which he was going to do because he was bored and this was the most interesting shit he'd come across in weeks. Better than his last hunt. This would be his second log about the Great Lord Vaako but he didn't care.

 

“Captain's Log Number Forty-Six: Nec-ro-monger,” he sounded out the word in great exaggeration, comm held to his mouth while the PADD wobbled on his leg. “Dead guys acting like toy soldiers. Wind 'em all up and watch 'em go with very little giving-a-shit about letting their guys fall. Walking corpses, but not really. They steal people out of life cradles and force them to join or be killed. They have a pretty good size army.” He flipped further through the document. “Apparently they've been picking up speed for the pasty fifty years.”

 

He chuckled softly when he came across a few specific sentences. “Get this: They believe life is 'antagonistic to the universe'. Also says something like they're 'proceeded by comets' or whatever. They can't be that scary if they follow stars.”

 

Johns frowned in deep thought. “So...they basically want to kill everyone and ship whoever's left off to some mystical La-La Land.” He squinted down at the PADD to make sure he was reading the next bit right. “From what I'm seeing here, they're super deadly at close and far range. They have something called a 'gravity gun' that I want to get my hands on. Cold blooded killers. Huh.”

 

The merc set the device aside and moved lower in the chair, toes wriggling in his loosened boots. His head fell back against the rest and he tilted just right so he could see out to the stars. The comm tapped against his cheek and after a few seconds he smiled to himself.

 

“Wouldn't know by the color of those eyes,” Johns mused. “Now that I think about it, he didn't smell dead, either. Not really. Maybe numb, cooling...but not dead.”

 

_I wouldn't mind getting my hand around those braids._

 

“He was a sight to see,” Johns noted, cock pulsing lazily in his casual jeans. “Riddick would've liked him.”

 

**x-X-x**

 

“ _He was a sight to see...Riddick would've liked him._ ”

 

Somewhere, planets away, a silver eyed predator grinned.

 

“Maybe we'll find out one day, kitten.”

 

**x-X-x-X-x-X-x**

 

He got sloppy. That was the only way to explain what happened.

 

One morning he was settling at a dock and hunting down the next big con. It was one second of being surrounded, the next of a mouthful of blood, and the last of his world going dark.

 

One minute he was whistling over breakfast, the next he had landed himself in Hell.

 

 

* * *

**Comments? Praises? Boos? Probably boos because the boys are fucking a girl and a wife respectively. Don't worry. Soon they'll be fucking each other. And not just once either.[Gifset](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/86565411816/who-was-it-his-dame-purred-all-silk-and-smiles). Oh, and I made another for [Johns' captain's log](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/87814204381/captains-log-number-forty-six-nec-ro-monger).**

 

 


End file.
